Little Rambo, four and a half years old, makes his selection. After checking each of the six of us out, he reaches his long, hairy, black arms up towards Molly, and she obligingly scoops him into her arms. Rambo casually slings his arms around Molly’s neck, and she walks through the forest with this orphaned chimpanzee, as if he were just another of her babysitting charges. My 18 year old daughter, Molly, four people from the Netherlands and I are on a Forest Walk with ten young chimps living on 100 acre Ngamba Island in Lake Victoria, Uganda. The island is a sanctuary for rescued chimps and represents a collaboration between the Chimpanzee Sanctuary and Wildlife Conservation Trust (CSWCT) and Wild Frontiers which handles accommodations and meals for overnight visitors.
Most of Ngamba Island is an undisturbed tropical forest in which the 44 resident chimps wander all day, feeding, sleeping, grooming, playing and exploring. Their internal clocks alert them to the times each day when their keepers bring silver buckets filled with a delicious variety of fruits and vegetables to toss over the high fence from raised observation decks. Five to 10 minutes before each feeding session chimps emerge from the dense forest and settle on the grass by the electric fence which separates the chimps’ 95 acres from the 5 acres used by staff and visitors. Some groom one another, while others stare into space or play quietly. The silence is broken at the sight of approaching food bearers. A crescendoing chorus of excited hoots fills the air and more chimps emerge single file from the forest. Many of the chimps approach the dominant male of the group, look submissively into his face and call out, before heading for their meals. The famous chimp ability to make tools is on display, when a piece of food falls onto the wrong side of the fence. A chimp picks up a stick, breaks it to the appropriate size, pokes the stick through the fence, and pulls the errant food within safe reach.
Day visitors to Ngamba Island can watch the 11 am and 2:30 pm feedings from the observation platforms. It is a fascinating opportunity to watch chimp behavior up close in a natural setting. The sanctuary manager gives a short lecture on chimps in Uganda, and visitors can buy handicrafts made by women on nearby islands, thereby building a positive relationship between the chimps and their neighbors.
Ngamba Island is one of 19 primate sanctuaries in Africa. Such sanctuaries are essentially crisis centers, much like human refugee camps. They house orphaned and confiscated primates who have become victims of conflict with humans. Threats to chimps include the hunt for bush meat (chimps are eaten by people in central and west Africa), capture as pets, and killing in response to chimp raids on crops. Rescued chimps cannot be released into the wild, both because there is no undeveloped habitat available, and because chimp territoriality, which is violently enforced, prevents placing them in areas already inhabited by chimps. So as not to overpopulate the chimp space on Ngamba, the females are all on birth control.
The ultimate treat is for those visitors who opt to stay overnight on Ngamba. There are four luxurious two-person tents, each perched on a raised deck at the edge of Lake Victoria. As I sit on our deck, the open expanse of the lake is hidden by huge bushes rising out of the water five meters offshore. The shallow strip of lake in front of me is teeming with geese, ducks, ibises and egrets. This cozy hideaway puts me in the midst of an avian paradise where 150 species of birds thrive. Beside our tent, a pair of elegant spur-winged lapwings take turns sitting on eggs which lie in plain sight on the grass, dangerously exposed to marauding monitor lizards. A short way up the path, which leads to the chimps’ side of the island, a worried water thick-knee trots around near its fuzzy, striped chicks, huddling camouflaged under a bush. The bushes growing in the shallows are bedecked with weaver nests, and the busy, yellow birds flit from branch to branch, constantly patching up their hanging, tear-drop nests. An African fish eagle soars over the island and perches in a tall tree, its brilliant white head and tail glowing in the evening light. As the sky darkens, thousands of fruit bats fill the air above the island, all heading toward the mainland to feed for the night.
Wild Frontiers serves up fantastic meals in the open-air dining hut. Our four-course dinner features tilapia fingers, green bean soup, savory chicken, rice, sauteed vegetables and chocolate cake. Afterwards, we sit around a bonfire under the full moon-lit Ugandan sky and listen to lapping waves, bird calls, and a few outbursts from the settling chimps.
The next morning six of us gather for the Forest Walk with some of the younger chimps. At 7 am we are privileged to pass through the gate into the chimps’ side of Ngamba. A handful of chimps who evaded the call to return to their cages for the night (this is done, so that the health of each can be monitored and medicines dispensed), sit idly around, possibly regretting missing the breakfast just dispensed to the cooperative chimps. In a minute, the ten chimps selected for our Forest Walk, amble down the chute between the cages and freedom. Initially, they ignore us, wandering off to the edge of the forest. We follow and sit patiently near them, and, then, Rambo selects Molly to carry him. A smallish female taps my leg and indicates that she wants to hop onto my back. Honored, I lean down and up she climbs. I am stunned by her weight; she feels like an enormous boulder, her powerful muscles accounting for a bulk not obvious in looking at her.
Our precious hour with our chimp companions passes too quickly. We head into the forest where the light drops dramatically and chimps melt away into the vegetation with a few steps. We sit in a small clearing, and some chimps break off leaves and thick plant stalks to eat. A discarded stalk I taste reminds me of celery. Humans and chimps pair up and groom one another. Bili, rescued from the Democratic Republic of the Congo in 2001 when she was bald, parasite-laden and badly scarred, is my grooming partner. I rest my head in her lap, and she gently scrapes her nail over my scalp and neck, occasionally pressing her lips to a particular spot.
Being with the chimps is simultaneously transcendent and utterly ordinary. Our kinship is unmistakable. The chimps touch us in a lackadaisical way. We touch them with the casual familiarity we use when touching our own young children. We all take turns tickling Rambo who laughs uproariously. The chimps’ amber eyes reflect wisdom and depth.
Once again back on the human side of the fence, I feel stunned by the experience I’ve just had. Since cameras are not allowed on the Forest Walk, all I am left with are my memories and the sweet, horsey smell lingering on my hands from touching the chimps.
Rescued chimpanzees on Ngamba Island, Uganda during one of four daily feedings. Chimps and humans share 95% of their DNA, and this photo, as well as walking hand in hand with a chimp in the forest, vividly confirms our close relationship.
Rescued chimpanzees on Ngamba Island, Uganda during one of four daily feedings. Chimps and humans share 95% of their DNA, and this photo, as well as walking hand in hand with a chimp in the forest, vividly confirms our close relationship.
A Ugandan saying, “One by one makes a bundle” explains why it is worthwhile to save each individual chimp who has been captured for the pet trade or for bush meat or whose mother was killed in retaliation for crop raiding.
A delightful story. You write so well. I like your ability to capture the ordinary and extraordinary in the same experience. Shirley
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